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Neal smiles. “Mr. Montgomery—”
I take a step forward, making them take a step back. “You think you’re gonna build a gas station, a strip mall on my land? Take your offer and shove it up your ass.”
A muscle jerks in Neal’s jaw. “DVL can make life difficult for you, Mr. Montgomery, or we can make it easy. The choice is yours.”
“It’s a real nice piece of land,” Malcom adds. “But I imagine there are a lot of bad things that can happen on a ranch. Bones break. Maybe a fire. Maybe a horse gets sick. But I suppose that just comes with the territory, doesn’t it?”
Fury boils inside of me. “Where I grew up, you threaten someone, you don’t walk away in one piece,” I growl.
He holds his hands up in mock fear. “No threat. We fight for the land we want.”
“So do I.” This town is mine. It saved me after Maggie, and I’ll be damned if I let developers take it over.
My knuckles crack as I make a fist. My daddy raised me and my brothers to never throw the first punch, but we better throw the last. “Get the fuck off my property and don’t come back. You hear me?”
“We hear you, Mr. Montgomery.” Malcolm’s eyes sweep over the ranch, then back to me. “Others might not.”
It takes every ounce of my cool not to grab the guy by the throat and launch him across the field.
“Go,” I snap. “Now.”
I watch them get back in their car and head down the drive.
Others might not.
What the fuck does that mean? The idea of trouble coming to the ranch makes my stomach churn. How I didn’t slam a fist into that asshole’s smug face is beyond me.
When I turn to go back inside, I catch a flicker of movement.
Ruby.
She’s watching from her bedroom window, her baby blue eyes wide and alert, her lips parted in a question.
A question I can’t answer.
I give her a stern nod to stay put and head inside. But I still feel the heat of Ruby’s gaze on me even after I drop into bed, the bright glow of her sunshine smile following me down into a restless sleep.
“You’re late.” Davis frowns at Wyatt as he drops his lean frame into a chair in front of the fire pit.
I tip my beer. “Nice of you to join us.”
Wyatt grins at Stede. “Brought you candy, old man,” he says and dumps a shit ton of Hershey bars in Stede’s lap.
Best way to get Stede off the cigarettes—give him candy.
“Take a load off, kid.” Stede hands Wyatt a beer.
Ford and I exchange an eye roll. It’s just like Wyatt to come strolling in late, turn on the charm, and be forgiven.
When Wyatt’s settled, he looks all of us over. “Got into somethin’ tonight.”
“What kind of somethin’?” Ford asks.
“Prank of the century,” he drawls.
Davis sighs.
I sip my beer and watch the fire dance in the firepit. “Gotta tell us now.”
